


The Court of Queen Arthur

by Calex



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M, porn star au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-02-03
Updated: 2009-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calex/pseuds/Calex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur, prince of the gay porn industry is forced to work with newbie Merlin on Director John Draco's new movie based on the Arthurian legends... with a twist. Arthur's not very happy about it, and neither is Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
The Pendragons were big names in the porn industry. For decades, they had built up and up until their name was synonymous with porn, until they _were_ porn. Uther was the "King" of Camelot Productions, had taken over the reigns from his father and had wanted to build up his son in his image. Unfortunately, Arthur had always had other ideas. Oh, Arthur's name was synonymous with porn as well, but for entirely different reasons. If Uther was the King of the porn industry, then Arthur was its Prince. He had made his debut in a small production called "Nights of the Living Cock" and had immediately grabbed the audience's attention. He made it big by starring in countless of movies after that, he had movies like "40 Days and 40 Fucks" to his name. In every magazine, Arthur had always featured as _the_ man of the industry, the biggest porn star to ever live. His golden boy good looks and well endowed cock had made many men (and women) sigh. Every movie with Arthur's name on it was guaranteed to be an instant success.

Yet, Arthur never took his success for granted. There was always the fear that the reason for his own success was his father's illustrious name, after all. Arthur worked harder than anyone else to prove everyone wrong, to prove time and time again that he'd made it big on his own merit. He had never been picky about what movies he was in, even after he'd become big enough to be able to choose what roles he would play. He accepted each assignment his father pushed towards him without even the barest flicker of an eyelash, trained rigorously, and kept himself religiously in shape.

After it had been obvious that Arthur would not take over his father's place as the President of Camelot Productions, Uther's friend had sent his daughter to be brought up by the Pendragons. Morgana had taken over Arthur's place in the administrative section of Camelot Productions, even if Arthur had unfailingly and without complaint learnt those lessons himself. Morgana could focus on the business end, when Arthur was too busy with the acting side. Even more than that, Morgana was _good_. She had a shrewd sense for business, a cold ruthlessness to her that was belied by her beauty and gracious manner. And after Arthur had got over his own insecurity that Morgana would take over his place, he had relaxed, and had been grudgingly thankful that he could at least, finally, concentrate on acting.

And so he acted in movie after movie, role after role, that both Uther and Morgana pushed to him and Camelot's name and reputation grew. No matter how ridiculous the concept, he accepted it. It was his duty, after all. Even if he didn't personally agree, he did it anyway. It was what he had to do in order for his father to allow him to act. This was no different, even as Director John Draco – who'd only recently been allowed back in the business after Uther had coldly tossed him aside for reasons unknown to the general public – enthusiastically explained the concept to him over the phone.

"Hmm," was Arthur's only reply, as the man ecstatically went on and on about 'Destiny!' and 'Fate!' and 'two sides of the same coin!'. He scratched his nose, fighting against rolling his eyes, even if he knew that Director Draco would never see it. It was the principle of the thing, after all. Besides, he was sure that if he gave in to the physical need, his derision would show in his voice and that wasn't something he could afford. Director Draco had the delicate sensibilities of an "artiste". The newest movie he was talking about was "art" which he was determined to make into a "masterpiece". What it sounded like to him, to be frank, was total bollocks, but he wasn't going to say that. It went against his professionalism, after all. "So let me get this straight, it's going to be a historical setting this time?"

"Yes!!!!!!!" Director Draco said, and Arthur winced. He could almost hear all the exclamation points the word held. "And I've found the _perfect_ person to play against you."

"Oh? Is it Owain? Galahad? Tristan?" He tried not to let antagonism seep into his voice at the last name. Tristan and he had been at odds ever since the older man entered the industry. He didn't agree with Tristan's overly aggressive attitude, but the audience seemed to adore him, so Arthur let it go. Then he brightened as another possibility occurred to him. "Is it Lancelot?"

"No, he's very new," Director Draco informed him. "He's only been in one other movie, but I can already _taste_ the chemistry between you two. You will complement each other well, especially for the storyline. It's like fate!"

"Fate," Arthur said, dully. "Right, okay. So what's his name, then?"

"Merlin," Director Draco said, proudly, like he was introducing a favourite son at a party. Arthur paused. He had a bad feeling about this.

"You didn't choose him just because of his name, did you?"

"Nonsense, I know what I'm doing," Director Draco said, dismissively. Then his voice went back to bright and enthusiastic. "He's perfect. You'll meet each other next week at the primary script read through."

"A primary script read through?" Arthur repeated, blankly. "Why would we need to do that?"

"Because this is art, Arthur. You have to perfect art." Director Draco said and for the first time, disapproval coloured his tone. Arthur's back straightened and he nodded, hand clutching his mobile tighter to his ear.

"Right, okay, art. Primary script read through. Next week, did you say?"

"Monday," Director Draco confirmed, and then he once more sounded cheerful. "You'll love him, he's very pretty and enthusiastic. I'm sure he'll love working with you."

Arthur doubted that. It wasn't a good idea to put a newbie with a seasoned actor like Arthur. Most of them got too nervous to do anything right. And he hated to work with amateurs; they never knew how to act in a movie, properly. They all thought that the professional porn industry worked like amateur porn where all the actors had to do was meet and fuck in front of a camera, and that the video would then be uploaded to the internet, unedited. They didn't think about the scripts, the set, the costume, the makeup. The gruelling takes and the hot lighting, the crew watching, the endless editing. Frankly, Arthur wasn't sure that using this… _Merlin_ fellow was a good idea, but far be it for him to disagree with the genius Director's choice. It wasn't his style, anyway. Arthur was well known for being unfussy, for doing what he was told perfectly and without complaint. He schooled his face into a neutral expression.

"Where should I go and what time should I be there?"

"You remember where my house is, right? 8 a.m. sharp, please. Don't be late!"

Arthur forced himself not to be insulted by the reminder. He'd never been late a day in his long, illustrious career and he wasn't about to start just because he had some reservations about the new project. It wasn't the first time and it sure wasn't going to be the last. So instead of snapping, he uttered a gratingly polite "goodbye" that was probably lost in Director Draco's incessant cheer anyway, and slid his phone shut with a satisfyingly loud "click". It was going to be a long weekend.

  


* * *

  
Merlin wasn't happy. His agent had been perfectly thrilled by Director Draco's request and had immediately replied in the affirmative… without consulting Merlin. And when he'd complained, Gaius had simply given him _that_ Look and said that newbies didn't have the right to complain and choose projects.

"Wait until you're as big as Arthur is," Gaius advised seriously and Merlin and sulked. He didn't want to be as big as Arthur, hadn't even wanted to be in the industry in the first place but he'd had little choice. He was skint, pure and simple. He needed the money that the job would offer and besides, it wasn't too much of a hardship. Merlin was already gay, how hard was it to do a job which basically entailed that he let professional manwhores fuck him? He was already used to the industry, after all, his mother worked for a smaller company that dealt with straight porn which, you know, ew. He loved his mother, sure, but that didn't mean he'd fuck girls to get money to give to her. So he'd gotten his mother to call up Gaius to ask for a favour, and now he was working in the gay porn industry, which was infinitely preferable.

But still. Director Draco was just plain odd. He'd watched a few of the man's movies before and he'd never been able to get off on them. He could admit that the cinematography and whatnot was top notch, but to be honest, porn was porn. He watched porn to get off. The whole point was the sex, wasn't it? And sometimes Director Draco's movies forgot the sex for the art. It was like porn for girls, or something, though why girls wanted to watch a man fuck another man up the bum was a mystery to him. Besides, Director Draco had informed them of the concept of the new movie, which was going to be a historical setting. Based on the Arthurian legends. Loosely, of course, because this was still the porn industry and they would twist history to fit the image the director was going for. That was all the man would tell them, and Merlin dreaded the full horror of the storyline.

Then there was the fact that the actor he was playing against was Arthur. He was not a big Arthur fan. To be honest, he thought the other man was a complete prat, from what he'd observed. Sure, he could admit that Arthur was good looking, but a prat was a prat. And he was a total arse on top of that, too. He didn't care that Arthur was known as the so-called "prince" of the industry, it just made him a royal arse, to Merlin's mind. He was sure that Arthur was going to be completely insufferable to work with.

Still, like Gaius had said, he'd not much of a choice. Gaius had already agreed for him, and he couldn't turn it down now for fear of being fired. Merlin was a nobody; had only acted in one other movie previously and the movie had only done alright. It had been some kind of Uni initiation-type concept, and he'd been one of many men who'd been "initiated" into the fraternity. He'd even had to put on the most godawful American accent for it, too. The script had been full of "please fuck me, sirs" and "oh, harders". It was the staple of porn, he supposed. And he also supposed that this new movie would not be much different.

"What kind of name is 'Draco', anyway?" he muttered to Gaius as he threw himself on the chair in front of Gaius's desk. "It sounds like a bloody stage name to me. I didn't even know that directors _had_ stage names."

"Whatever the case may be," Gaius said, frowning at Merlin. "You must take this chance to push your career forward. It's not everyday that a newcomer gets to act with the Prince. Make sure you behave yourself properly and for god's sake, Merlin, don't give them any sass. Don't make them notice you out of acting. These people can either make or break your career."

"Right, then." Merlin said, sardonically. "I'll make a note not to take the piss out of the director's name. To his face."

"Merlin," Gaius said, warning clear in his tone. Merlin sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, yes. Perfect behaviour and all that. Don't worry, _mother_."

"Of course I'm going to worry, you're like a son to me. Your mother put you under my care and I don't want to do wrong by you." Merlin's scowl softened to a slightly smile and he straightened to pat Gaius's hand.

"I'll take the hint. I'll act properly. Even if it kills me."

"You're being melodramatic."

"Mark my words, Gaius," Merlin said, darkly. "This can only end badly."

"Well let's hope that you at least manage to make this a hit before that happens," Gaius said, smartly. Then: "Tea?"  



	2. The Court of Queen Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur, prince of the gay porn industry is forced to work with newbie Merlin on Director John Draco's new movie based on the Arthurian legends... with a twist. Arthur's not very happy about it, and neither is Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a swift update and I deliver! Also, thanks again to my betas [](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/profile)[**krazykipper**](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/) and [](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/profile)[**green_postit**](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/), who've both been terrific. :D

He had to get up at 5.30 in order to get ready to be at John Draco's home by 8.00. It wasn't his daily beauty regime (though there was that, too), but the fact that he had to catch a train to get there. The man lived in Reading. Thankfully, Arthur lived in St. John's Wood, and it wasn't too far away from Paddington. His train was at 7.00 and got in at 7.25. It was a little earlier than agreed, but then Director Draco lived twenty minutes away from the train station and Arthur was not about to be late. Besides, he could grab a cup of tea or coffee in Reading before he went over to the Director's house. He just hoped that the man had given clear directions to the newcomer. He would _not_ be happy if he found out that he'd wasted all that effort waking up early to get there on time only for it to be ruined by the fact that they had to delay the reading because the other party was late. Merlin. Hah! What sort of name was Merlin, anyway? Arthur bet it was just a stage name. Well, it was better than most, he supposed.

Unfortunately, things really didn't get off to a great start. For one, he'd slept past his alarm. He woke up at six, and then panicked because there was so little time. He'd quickly washed his face, brushed his teeth, and taken a shower, rushing through everything. Thankfully he'd laid out his outfit the night before and after getting dressed, he quickly left without breakfast. At the train station, there had been quite a big queue of commuters and he'd been nearly late for his train. Then they didn't open the bar, so Arthur didn't even get the chance to have a first cup of coffee. Then there was a delay and his train only got in at 7.40, which made him decide to forego the leisurely cup of coffee he'd planned on having, and he jumped straight into a taxi.

He barely got to the director's house on time, feeling a bit frazzled. He wasn't could deal with the director's eccentricities without coffee, but he'd have to. Worse still, when Director Draco opened the door he'd beamed, said hello and informed Arthur that the other party had already arrived and damn it all, it made it seem like Arthur was _late_ when it wasn't the case at all. His dislike of the newcomer only increased as the director ushered him to the sitting room and he saw the other man sitting on the couch, looking perfectly awake, sipping at a cup of coffee which he himself had been denied. And the director wanted them to start right away.

Worse still, the director was right. Merlin _was_ pretty. Attractive in a slightly awkward way with his too large ears and bright blue eyes. He didn't _want_ to find Merlin attractive. He wanted to hate the bloke, but it was impossible to do that when the first sight of him in well worn black skinny jeans, battered brilliant green hi-top converse, a tight faded yellow t-shirt printed with the big lips and lolling tongue that was The Rolling Stones's insignia under a too large grey and black striped cardi made him want to bend him over the nearest flat couch or table and have his wicked way with him.

The icing on the cake, really, was when Merlin looked up, looked him up and down, wrinkled his nose, and told him that his fly was undone.

* * *

  
"He _punched_ me," Merlin muttered to himself, as though he couldn't quite believe what had transpired. Then his eyes sharpened, and he looked right at Gaius, indignation clear on his face while Gaius pressed an icepack to his cheek. "He _punched_ me!"

"Yes, yes, we're all aware of what Mr. Pendragon has done," Gaius said, automatically as he lifted the icepack off and pressed his fingers against Merlin's cheek. "Well, I don't think it's going to swell. He didn't hit you that hard."

"He _punched_ me," Merlin repeated. "I'm not working with that maniac!"

"I wasn't aware that you'd become an overnight success," Gaius said, drolly, and Merlin scowled. "You embarrassed him."

"I told him the truth! He was looking like a right idiot with his zip undone. I was doing him a favour and he _punched_ me."

"You don't have to emphasise that. I'm well aware."

Merlin scowled, then flinched as the action pulled at his sore skin. He pressed his own fingers lightly to the area that had been hit. Then flinched again as he brushed over the tender area. His expression tightened.

"Where is he? I'm going to hit him. I swear to god, I'm going to hit him. Let me at him, Gaius."

"Merlin," Gaius said patiently, after a brief and startled pause. "You do know that he'll… hit back, right? And no offence, my boy, but I don't think you'd win against him."

"Oh ye of little faith," Merlin grumbled. "I could take him."

"… Of course." Gaius patted Merlin on the head gently, like you would to a child, and then stood up very slowly, brushing imaginary dust off of his knees. "Well, you're fine. I'll see what Arthur and the director are up to. Stay put and Merlin? Stay out of trouble this time."

"It wasn't my fault!" Merlin called out after him, but Gaius either didn't hear, or ignored him. Merlin scowled, flinging himself back against the chair, arms crossed. He'd told Gaius. He'd told him that it wouldn't end well and look where they were? They hadn't even done the read through and he'd been hit. He'd been right in his assessment of Arthur, the man was a royal prat. He couldn't believe he'd been hit over something like telling Arthur his fly was undone. Did the prick _want_ to be walking around all day with his boxers showing? He might make a living out of his cock, but it didn't mean that everyone else wanted to _look_ at it all the bloody time. He was working up quite a sulk when the man in question walked into the living room, not even having the decency to look regretful for his actions. In fact, Arthur just looked annoyed and like he wanted to be just about as far away from Merlin as he could possibly be. Fortunately, Merlin felt just the same and he glared at the other man.

"Come to blacken the other eye, then?" Merlin asked, snidely. Arthur's only reaction was for his frown to deepen, before all expression smoothed from his face. Merlin blinked. That had been quite the trick, perhaps Arthur wasn't such a bad actor after all.

"I've been told I need to apologise for the first," Arthur returned, coolly. "But it does seem a pity to leave your new… eye decoration on its own like that." Merlin stared at him in disbelief, and when he finally spoke, his voice was filled with awe.

"You really are an incredible arse, aren't you?" Arthur just raised an imperious eyebrow and Merlin was brought to mind his nickname, the 'Prince'. Arthur looked suitably princely just then, arms crossed, posture perfect, face cool and remote and looking at Merlin like he was something unpleasant that was stuck on the bottom of his shoe.

"You can't call me that," Arthur said, and he sounded dismissive. Not outraged or indignant as others would be, but totally dismissive, with condescension _dripping_ from his tone. "Do you know who I am?"

"What, the President of the production company?" Merlin was surprised when Arthur just looked pityingly at him, before he sneered, just the slightest bit.

"Close. He's my father."

'Oh shit' didn't quite cover it.

* * *

Arthur really enjoyed watching the boy's face fall as the reality of his words hit him. He felt sorry for Merlin, really. Or would have, if he'd been lying about wanting to punch Merlin a second time. The urge was strong still, but he'd been given a stern talking to by the director. Except Arthur was pretty sure he'd seen some kind of excited sparkle in the man's eye which he couldn't for the life of him figure out the reason for. Then Merlin's agent had come in, apologising on behalf of his misbehaving client and then it was all decided that really, Arthur should apologise just to clear up the air. The brat didn't make it easy. Oh no, Merlin seemed determined to do everything he humanly could to piss Arthur off. And he was succeeding quite well, too. But the fact still remained that Arthur would have to work with him. They had a job to do and he couldn't afford to piss about any longer. He was already behind schedule as it was and would have to rush to get to his second appointment of the day. So he sighed, walked to the sofa where Merlin was sitting on – ignoring the way the boy turned wide eyes to him and practically willed himself to melt into the armrest – and sat down gracefully on the other side.

"We've wasted an hour," he began, without preamble. He knew there was accusation in his tone, but he figured it would help. When Merlin's eyes narrowed, he hid a smirk because apparently, he'd been right on the mark. "I've another appointment to get to and frankly, I just want to get this over and done with so that Director Draco can see what a huge fucking mistake all of this was." He turned to Merlin, raised an eyebrow, and condescension _dripped_ from his tone. "No offence, but I don't want to work with you. I make it a personal rule to stay away from amateurs. You lot never know what you're doing and most of the time, you waste everyone's time and really make a mess of things. So I'd appreciate it if you buck up and show the director how right I am so we can finally find _someone_ who would be able to do the job better."

"You," Merlin hissed, hands clenched into fists at his sides, eyes flashing with anger and bright spots of colour high on his cheeks. Arthur forced himself to not think about how utterly fuckable he looked right then, and how easy it would be to have him stretched out on the sofa and naked. "You really are an _incredible_ prat."

"I thought we've established that you shouldn't say that to me," Arthur said, bored. Merlin's nostrils actually flared and Arthur saw the way his knuckles actually whitened. He leaned back, letting a smirk play at his lips, watched as Merlin's eye twitched and he bit back a snarl.

"You're a prat, _my lord_ ," Merlin bit out, then shot Arthur a sarcastic smile, tone thick with false politeness. "Is that better?"

Arthur couldn't help himself. His lips twitched ever so slightly and just as Merlin's eyes narrowed to slits, he snorted, laughter bubbling out until he was bent over with it, arms wrapped around himself as he _howled_. A glimpse of Merlin's face from the corner of his eye only made him laugh harder, as it was blatently obvious that the other man really, really, _really_ wanted to sock him.

"What," Merlin began, testily. "Is so funny?" Arthur just shook his head, not able to answer and that only seemed to make Merlin even angrier. Arthur really did try to quell his giggles, though. It was just it was a painfully hard endeavour when the whole situation just screamed 'comedy' to him. So maybe the brat was entertaining, at least. He'd never met anyone who would so obviously insult him to his face, even after he'd been threatened of being fired. He might have to keep Merlin around just for laughs. Arthur was pretty sure that Merlin was actually going to hit him, but he was saved by the two older men coming back. He doubted Merlin would hit him with them present, he was pretty sure the younger man didn't _actually_ want to get fired. The director shot them both expectant smiles.

"Worked everything out, then?"

"Oh yes," Arthur said, stifling his snickers. It took quite a few tries, but finally he was able to make his expression neutral. Merlin just shot him a look of pure venom at his bland answer, before he forced himself to smile.

"What he said."

"Excellent!" Director Draco practically bounced, as he clapped his hands together excitedly. "Well then, shall we get to work? You both know the storyline?"

"A historical setting, isn't it?" Arthur ventured, politely, and the director beamed at him, looked expectant. Arthur guessed that it meant he was waiting for more. "Er… based on the Arthurian legends?"

"Yes, _exactly_. It's a whole new concept, a whole new spin on the old and very popular legends. We will be concentrating on the relationship between a young _prince_ Arthur and his manservant, the magician Merlin – "

"Wait a mo, his _manservant_?" Merlin repeated, aghast. "That is in no way historically accurate! Merlin wasn't Arthur's manservant, he was his – "

"Artistic license," Arthur cut in, smoothly. He shot Merlin a smirk before smiling with faux-interest at the director, mock approval in his tone. "I do say, that sounds quite exciting. I'm sure no one will expect that direction. It's quite ingenious."

"Thank you, my boy." the director beamed at Arthur again, before moving on to explain further. "The movie will be concentrating on the relationship between Arthur and Merlin, and their burgeoning relationship. Going from reluctant master and servant to friends to something more." Here he wiggled his eyebrows and Arthur let out a polite and expected chuckle. "I've got people working on the script, but that's the main gist of it. Oh, Arthur doesn't know about Merlin's magical powers because his father has banned magic from Camelot. It is punishable by death so Merlin, my boy, I expect you to play the role of a man with a secret who fights against his feelings for the prince that he serves. Arthur, who is completely devoted to his father and his role as the heir apparent to the throne of Camelot is duty-bound to report and execute all those who use magic, as per the King's orders so Merlin's really fallen for the most difficult man. While we do have a script, the purpose of today's meeting isn't that."

Okay, that he hadn't expected. With a frown, he straightened up in the sofa, leaning forward slightly as he gave Director Draco his undivided attention. His brows furrowed. "So what exactly do you want us to do?"

"The relationship between Arthur and Merlin is a complex and difficult one. They are bound together by _fate_ , two sides of the same coin! It is Merlin's _destiny_ to help and guide Arthur to be the King of Camelot that he is meant to be, to be his sword and his shield. We need there to be _chemistry_ between you two, _passion_ and _lust_. You need to _clash_ and translate your sexual desire for each other as aggression, denying your feelings until gradually, you can no longer lie to yourselves any longer."

Arthur found himself eyeing Merlin, and found himself being eyed in return. Merlin's hand had gone up to his face, fingers brushing lightly against his cheek and he saw the boy's mouth turn down at the corners as his tone took on a sardonic turn. "I don't think we'll have any problems with the aggression."

" _Exactly_!" Director Draco exclaimed in a loud, booming voice that had Arthur, Merlin, and Merlin's agent jumping slightly in their respective seats. They all stared at the manic gleam in the director's eyes warily. "Which is why I am even more confident that my choice of putting the two of you together is not wrong. I can already _feel_ the sexual tension and you two will look absolutely beautiful together. Oh yes…" The director lifted his hands up, pressing thumb to pointer finger, and thumb to pointer finger as he pretended to look through a camera at them. His voice took on a breathless quality. "Absolutely marvellous. Arthur's blond hair and Merlin's dark brown, your blue eyes… just gorgeous. Now," he paused, dropping his hands before grinning widely at the two of them again. "Is to see if you can translate that aggression and sexual tension to something… steamy on screen. Gentlemen!"

  
The next thing Arthur knew, the room seemed to contain a few more people, carrying a camera and light and sound equipment. They set themselves up just behind the coffee table where Arthur and Merlin were sitting by and the two of them just blinked at the sudden activity. Then they blinked at the director who now sported a cap that he had put on backwards, sitting down in a director's chair that seemed to have been pulled out of what like thin air. Even Gaius was blinking. Gaius seemed to have caught on quicker though, because as soon as understanding flashed on his face, he was on his feet. He shot Merlin an encouraging smile and murmured that he was going to get himself a cuppa in the kitchen and for Merlin to work hard and then he was gone. Merlin was left staring after his back, a betrayed and terrified look on his face. Arthur was startled but then…. Director Draco was eccentric; he'd already made thar point. Besides, being in front of a camera was second nature to him, now. It wasn't something new. So he turned to Merlin with a raised eyebrow.

"Stop looking at the camera like a deer in the headlights. You're going to have to go through this when we're shooting the movie, you know."

"Yes," Merlin answered him, and Arthur blinked at the note of hysteria in his voice. "When we're shooting the _movie_. Not when I was supposed to be having a primary script read through and _what does he want us to do_?"

"Er." Arthur looked at the director who, upon feeling his eyes, beamed at him again and shot him a thumbs up sign before speaking rapidly to the man behind the camera. "I'm not rightly sure."

"Oh great," Merlin said, his hysteria mounting. "That's just fabulous. Even the so called _professional_ doesn't know what the hell's going on. I knew I shouldn't have taken this job. This was a mistake, I don't care if it's going to be hard for me to find work after this I need to get _out of here_ \- "

Merlin's panicked babbling was really starting to get on Arthur's nerves. So he did the only thing he could think of, really. He leaned over, grabbed Merlin's arm, yanked him close and kissed him. Thankfully, the director had just called out 'action'.  



	3. The Court of Queen Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur, prince of the gay porn industry is forced to work with newbie Merlin on Director John Draco's new movie based on the Arthurian legends... with a twist. Arthur's not very happy about it, and neither is Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to my betas ♥ [](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/profile)[**krazykipper**](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/) and [](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/profile)[**green_postit**](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/) ♥

Merlin wasn't sure what had just happened. One moment he'd been babbling and about to bolt and the next he was pulled up against Arthur, Arthur's mouth sealed over his. It was really quite uncomfortable. His elbow was squashed against Arthur's side and his free arm was flailing a little as he tried to figure out what was going on and where he was supposed to hold on to, and they were pressed thigh to thigh. Arthur was gripping his wrist, pulling Merlin's upper body half on his and his neck ached from the angle. But then Arthur let go of him only to wrap an arm around Merlin's waist to hoist him up onto Arthur's lap and oh, okay, that was definitely more comfortable.

Arthur's free hand was cupping his jaw, thumb brushing against his cheek while his fingers slid through Merlin's hair. It was almost soothing, if Arthur's tongue wasn't tracing his lips in a way that made Merlin open his mouth automatically, before that tongue moved in. Merlin heard an embarrassingly loud moan, and then stiffened when he realised that the moan had come from _him_.

"Relax," Arthur murmured against his mouth and really, that was easy for _him_ to say, and oh god, Arthur's tongue was back in his mouth and _rubbing_ against his and his hand was moving down Merlin's back to cup his arse and now he was pulled in snug against Arthur and -

"Oh god," Merlin groaned, his head falling back as Arthur's mouth trailed down to his neck and unerringly found that spot that made him shiver. His hands were on Arthur's shoulders, fingers contracting as Arthur's tongue drew patterns on his skin, proving to him exactly _why_ Arthur was number one in the industry. Merlin shivered as he imagined that tongue drawing patterns on other places, imagined that hot mouth wrapped around his cock and really, that wasn't what he should be thinking about when he was on Arthur's _lap_ and they had a room full of people staring at them while a camera was recording every single thing they were doing and –

Arthur was laughing. Again. Merlin scowled as he felt the hot puffs of breath against his now damp neck, the way Arthur's body trembled under his with his laughter. "Would you stop _laughing_!" Merlin hissed, face flushed completely with embarrassment and not with leftover lust, he quickly assured himself. No way was he lusting for Arthur… although even his denial couldn't explain away the fact that his cock was half hard from just a _kiss_ and that Arthur could probably feel it, too.

"Do you ever stop thinking?" Arthur asked, mouth swollen, wet and curved with a genuine smile that made Merlin stare at him in stupefaction. Arthur's smile turned wry. "Good enough, I suppose. Now pay attention, okay?" That said, suddenly Arthur was stripping him of his cardigan and his hands went under the back of Merlin's t-shirt and the first feel of wide palmed callused hands on his bare skin made Merlin shiver. Those hands stroked up and down his back, smoothing over his arse, tracing between his cheeks before going up again to slide up to his front, this time.

Merlin's eyes narrowed as he saw the challenging smirk on Arthur's face. Oh, he wanted to play the big porn star, did he? Merlin would show him. He'd show Arthur just what this _amateur_ could do. With a smile of his own, deliberately heavy lidded and sensual, he let his head fall back again, back arching so that his chest was further away from Arthur's. It gave Arthur's hands more room to manoeuvre and after Arthur shot him a look that just screamed out 'I-know-what-you're-doing', Arthur's hands started moving again, running blunt nails over his flat stomach, dragging up until his fingers brushed over Merlin's flat nipples. Merlin let out a loud moan at that, but hated how it was only half for show. Arthur's widening smirk told him the other man knew it, too, and Merlin had to school his features to prevent a scowl.

Instead, he bit down on his lower lip, hand going cover one of Arthur's over his shirt, hips grinding down slowly against Arthur's in a light rhythm. He brought Arthur's hand against his nipple again and again, feeling them harden over the repeated brush of Arthur's rough fingertips over them. He kept his eyes locked on Arthur's, this time, and released his lip only to brush a wet tongue over it. He noted the way Arthur's eyes locked on the movement, heated, and Merlin shivered slightly.

"Touch me," he gasped out, trying to think of every single cheesy line that was supposed to be arousing. He shuddered slightly, grinding down on Arthur deliberately, letting his breathing become for laboured. "Please, touch me."

"Such a slut," Arthur murmured, and Merlin had to bite back a snort even as he reluctantly reacted to the deep, husky growl of Arthur's voice, right against his neck. Then shuddered for real as he felt Arthur's teeth nip the juncture of neck and shoulder. "You like my hands on you? Want me to touch your chest, your nipples?"

"Oh yeah," Merlin said on a breathy moan. "Touch my nipples, it feels so good." He deliberated on another moan, but thought that might be a bit of an overkill. Then decided, why the hell not, and moaned anyway. He swore Arthur snorted quietly against his skin, but was pretty sure that no one else noticed, even as Arthur moved to comply, pinching his now hardened nipples again, hard enough for it to hurt just right. Merlin's teeth dug into his lip and Arthur slipped one hand out to grip the back of his neck, pulling him down so that Arthur could trace his tongue over Merlin's lower lip and teeth. Merlin could feel the cameraman moving, getting into a better position to see them, taking whatever close-ups they thought necessary. His hand over Arthur's tightened, and then he dropped it to his shoulder. "Take off my shirt."

"Why? What do you want me to do?"

Arthur's voice was deliberately seductive, promising, teasing. Merlin shivered. He was too good at that. The husky growl hadn't left Arthur's tone and Merlin wondered how Arthur's throat didn't hurt after keeping that tone for so long. He was pretty sure Arthur had managed to keep it up from the start to finish of a movie he'd seen, once. Then he supposed it was the practice, or something.

"I want to feel your mouth on me," he finally said, nails digging into Arthur's shoulder. "Please." He added, as an afterthought. Arthur's hand dragged down, gripped the hem of Merlin's t-shirt and pulled, yanking it off of him, ruffling Merlin's hair before he threw it over his shoulder. Merlin spared an indignant thought at that, it was his favourite t-shirt, before Arthur's mouth dropped to his nipple and his brain short-circuited. It wasn't until Arthur's growled 'you like that?' that Merlin realised that he'd been moaning. Shit. _He_ was the one who was supposed to show his professionalism to Arthur, dammit. Not the other way around. So he tugged on Arthur's pink polo, letting a little desperation colour his voice. "Take it off, I want to feel you."

Arthur chuckled, hand against the small of Merlin's back, nails dragging over his skin, making Merlin arch his back, moaning again. Why the hell couldn't he stop the bloody _moaning_? It was embarrassing! And why the hell was Arthur still not taking off his shirt and _oh_. He let out a breathless gasp as Arthur pushed him back, making him fall back against Arthur's thighs. It was a good thing he was bendy, but he still felt thankful when Arthur dragged up one of his legs over his shoulder, before his mouth travelled from Merlin's chest to trace his tongue over Merlin's ribs, then down to dip into his navel. Merlin arched and sighed as Arthur tugged at the skin of his navel between his teeth, sucking up a mark. He couldn't hide it, anymore, not with Arthur that close. He was painfully hard, now, especially with Arthur's maddening proximity to his cock.

"Take off your shirt," Merlin repeated, desperately, attempting to even out the playing field again, but Arthur just laughed against his stomach and then his hand was cupping over Merlin and Merlin cried out, hips bucking up into the touch. Cheesy porn dialogue and one-upmanship was forgotten in the face of _Arthur's hand on his cock_ and he cursed as Arthur just kept it there, unmoving, a warm and maddening weight. "Bastard, touch me!"

"Where do you want me to touch you?"

"I swear to god, Arthur, if you don't take out my cock right _now_ , I'm going to – " Arthur really didn't like to let him finish his sentences, but Merlin might just have to forgive him if he ignored Merlin by doing what he asked for. Because Arthur had unzipped his jeans, reached in and wrapped his hand around Merlin's cock. Merlin choked on a yell, hips jerking up. There had been no layer of underwear, the jeans had been too tight and Merlin was a boxers man, anyway and oh god, Arthur's hand was around his _cock_ and he was jerking him off slow and steady and Merlin whimpered a bit at the dry, rough pull.

Arthur must have sensed his discomfort, though, because suddenly his hand was gone and Merlin cracked open an eye he hadn't realised he'd squeezed shut to yell at Arthur, only he saw him lick a wet line from palm to fingertips and god, that really shouldn't have been as hot as it was. Merlin let his head flop back down on a groan, hips lifting up in anticipation of Arthur's touch. And this time, Arthur didn't tease, didn't taunt, just wrapped his hand around Merlin straight away and started jerking him off, murmuring filthy things that had Merlin's skin blistering with heat and embarrassment and really, he shouldn't find it so goddamn hot, but he _did_. He did. And a mortifyingly short time later, Merlin stiffened, arching off of Arthur's thighs as he came. And then he swore he was going to come again as, after a few more strokes, Arthur brought his hand to his mouth to lick it clean. Merlin just groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes, body shuddering from the aftermath of his orgasm and the sight of Arthur _licking off his come_.

"Arthur, do you want him to finish you off?"

The director's voice had Merlin jerking and he almost tumbled off of Arthur's lap. Would've, if Arthur hadn't grabbed his arm. He'd totally forgotten about them. In the last few moments, he'd forgotten about the director, he'd forgotten about the crew, forgotten everything except the rough pull of Arthur's hand on his dick. And _that_ had him scrambling back up, tucking himself back in hurriedly. Arthur just leaned back, waiting for Merlin to get off of his lap before throwing the director a lazy grin.

"Nah, it's not too bad. It'll go away."

Merlin looked down and realised in humiliation, that Arthur wasn't even fully hard. He'd jerked Merlin off, had his hand on Merlin's dick, and apparently that hadn't been much of anything. Merlin wanted to punch him. So he did. Over the yells from the crew, Arthur's angry bellowing, Gaius's disbelief as he rushed back in, Merlin heard the director yelling out in glee:

"Yes, yes, _yes_! That's exactly it, boys! Passion and aggression, lust and violence, attraction and dislike! Perfect, perfect, _perfect_!"

Insane. That was what they all were. And looking at Arthur's furious face, Merlin felt his stomach sink. Maybe he was insane, too. He gulped, as Arthur's expression promised retribution. Painful retribution.

  


* * *

  


"Someone's been having trouble."

Arthur groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he pulled the duvet over his head in an attempt to block out the voice, but to no avail as the person grabbed his duvet and yanked it clean off his bed. Arthur's eyes opened to a tiny slit as he glared at the fuzzy figure looming over him, arms on hips, and he knew that an imperious eyebrow was raised. He snorted, pulling his spare pillow over his head instead.

"Go _away_ , Morgana."

"Tough luck," Morgana said unsympathetically as she pulled that too off of him. "Get up, and for god's sake, put some pants on at least! I hardly need to stare at your naked self on my days off as well." Arthur groaned, covering his face with an arm before lowering it just enough to stare balefully at her.

"You never have days off, you're a fucking workaholic and you actually _like_ it. What, did father finally tire of you and kick you out or something?"

"Like that will happen," Morgana snorted, and flopped down (gracefully, Arthur was irritated to note) next to him. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me, Pendragon."

"Just as long as you don't expect me to call you 'Mummy'," Arthur drawled, and then yelped as Morgana dug crimson coloured talons into his thigh. " _Jesus_ , Morgana, go _away_."

"No, we need to talk. And if you ever call me 'Mummy', I will personally make sure that you'll be doing films with Tristan for a good, long while."

"Sadistic bitch," Arthur muttered sourly. Morgana just shot him a tight smile.

"And you didn't know this before? God, Pendragon, you're so _slow_. Has all the sex addled your brain? Oh wait, that would imply you had one in the first place."

"You're in fine form, today." Arthur forced himself to sit up, reaching over the side of his bed to grab his carelessly discarded robe and pulled it on, yawning. He opened an eye to look at her curiously. "Seriously, what crawled up your arse and died?"

"Such touching concern."

"Just want to know what beat me to it, that's all."

"The day I let you put anything up my arse will be a very cold day in hell indeed."

Arthur had to stare at her for a moment, before he shuddered theatrically, pressing a hand over his eyes as if to ward away the images her words produced. He scowled at her from between his fingers. "Bloody hell, that's not what I meant and you _know_ it."

"Yes, dear," Morgana mocked, patting his cheek in a completely patronising manner that had him bristling. She stood up, brushing imaginary lint off of her clothes and shot him a steely look. "Kitchen. Two minutes." With that, she turned on her heel and sashayed out of the room, leaving Arthur to glower at her retreating back. Bossy cow. He still got up, though. He might really dislike her sometimes (or all of the time, but who's counting?) but he knew a threat when he saw it. And the problem with Morgana was that she carried her threats out thoroughly and ruthlessly. So he quickly went to his ensuite bathroom, splashed water on his face and brushed his teeth before he joined her in the kitchen.

Gwen seemed to be preparing breakfast, and had a mug of coffee waiting for him on the counter. Snagging it, he went to her to press a thankful kiss on her cheek and to murmur a deliberately sleep roughed 'good morning' right to her ear. He hid his smirk behind the mug when she flushed and stammered out a 'good morning' to him as well. Morgana was sitting at the counter, sipping her own cup of tea, her own breakfast in front of her. As usual, her plate was heaped with food – three slices of toast (she'd already eaten one, if her used knife was any indication), a heaping amount of scrambled eggs, four sausages, baked beans, and a large chocolate chip muffin. Morgana was one of those disgusting creatures who could eat her weight in food and still not gain an ounce. Arthur sometimes thought he could hate her for just that, when he himself had to work out at the gym to keep his own body toned.

When Gwen placed his plate in front of him, the difference in amount was noticeable. He had two pieces of toast, some scrambled eggs and two sausages. They ate in companionable silence for a while and Arthur tried not to stare at the way that Morgana inhaled her food. She seemed to pick daintily at her plate, except things disappeared from it rather quickly. He didn't know how she did it, or where it went. If life was fair, she would be a fat old hag, but that was just sod's law, wasn't it? Gwen didn't even bat an eyelid, but then she'd been with Morgana for _years_. Arthur didn't know how someone could be aware of the fact that Morgana was the spawn of Satan, yet still like her, but her assistant seemed to. Women were a mystery to Arthur, so he supposed that it was just as well that he preferred men.

When they were all done with their breakfast, Morgana cleared her throat and turned to him, and Arthur rolled his eyes. Here it came. Morgana raised an eyebrow and no words needed to be exchanged for Arthur to know what she wanted. Arthur knew what she wanted to hear, but to be honest; he wasn't quite sure how to say it. The day before at director Draco's house had been a complete and utter nightmare. Not only did he punch that Merlin fucker, but he'd been punched, too. Then it had turned into a complete scuffle and they'd had to be dragged off from each other, he screaming obscenities all the way. He supposed that at least the director didn't seem displeased, though frankly he found the man's extreme excitement to be far more worrying. Finally he just sighed, running his fingers through his still sleep tousled hair.

"I don't know," he confessed after a moment, tone quiet. "He just… he _infuriates_ me and the next thing I knew, my fist had met his face and it just… deteriorated from there, I suppose. But really, he seemed to have something against me from the beginning and I have no idea what I did to warrant _his_ punch."

"Aside from the fact that you punched him?"

"Well, he seemed to have gotten over it, by that point."

"I doubt it," Morgana said, dryly. "But that doesn't matter. You're expected to work with him. Your father's rather keen on the idea of you starring in Director Draco's comeback film."

"There's only so much professionalism I can show, Morgana," Arthur said, tiredly. "I don't know what he wants from me."

"The kid or your father?"

"Both of them!" Arthur exploded. "Everyone! I'm the fucking "prince" of Camelot Productions, I'm the perfect fucking porn star and I just… I'm tired. I'm only human and I make mistakes, but god forbid if I ever _show_ anyone the fact that I'm not some kind of automaton."

"Arthur…" For the first time, there was compassion in Morgana's voice. She laid a hand on his arm, squeezed it slightly in comfort. "What do you want to do? I know you're caught up on this idea that you're the 'heir' or CP, but you're your own person too, you know. If you think this is just a stupid mistake and it's not going to work out, no one will think badly of you if you turn it down."

"I can't," Arthur said, finally, sighing. He shot her a self-deprecating smile. "I'm Arthur Pendragon." She squeezed his arm again before dropping her hand. Her tone took its normal bossiness again.

"Well then, you're going to have to suck it up and work with him. The director's adamant about using him, so you're out of luck in terms of a replacement. It's not going to take too long; all you have to do is act with the kid. Avoid trouble like yesterday, unless the director orders it. Keep away from the kid if you have to – "

"Merlin," Arthur corrected absently, staring at his cooling mug of coffee. Morgana stared at him for a silent moment, eyebrow raised. He noticed her staring and he flushed. "It was getting annoying, you saying 'kid' all the time."

"Okay," Morgana drawled, finally. "Well, fact still remains. Keep away from _Merlin_ if you have to. If he hurts your pretty face, the company's not going to pay to fix it and we're not going to tolerate losing business because of your foolishness. Your head is big enough for you to be aware that you're one of our biggest assets, so act like it. You know how tetchy your father gets if we lose money."

"Right," Arthur said, glumly. "Did he say anything?"

"Oh, he said plenty. I recommend you not visit him for a while."

Arthur just sighed again, dropping his head to the smooth wood of the countertop. Then he raised his head a few centimetres and dropped it again. He repeated the process a few times until a smooth, warm palm cushioned his forehead and he looked up to see Gwen shoot him an apologetic smile.

"Morgana told me to do it."

"You can't get away from it by giving yourself a concussion," Morgana said, bluntly. "Now when are you supposed to meet with him again?"

"Well, we're doing our costume fitting separately, apparently. The director wants to keep our reaction to each other 'fresh', or some bollocks like that. So I guess the first day of shooting? That's in two months. Well, unless the director wants us to meet for some reason."

"Good," Morgana said, briskly. "Keep yourself busy. You've got a few projects you're working on, which should keep you out of trouble. Just go about things the way you usually do and remember, _stay out of trouble_."

"You don't have to tell me that," Arthur said, a touch resentfully. Morgana only raised an eyebrow pointedly and then he realised his mistake. Before she could make a comment, however, he waved her off. "Okay, fine, I get it. No trouble. Promise."

"I'll hold you to that, Pendragon. Anyway, get ready; a car will come for you in an hour's time. You've got shooting all day, don't you?"

"Yes, yes. See you soon, Morgana."

"Hopefully not too soon," Morgana sniffed, and Arthur rolled his eyes. He did get up when she did, though, manners instilled into him years ago making it so. He politely kissed her cheek, then Gwen's, walking them to the door, not denying Morgana's barb that he was only doing that to make sure that they were actually leaving. Well, she wasn't completely wrong, after all. Finally, though, they left and Arthur leaned against his door, letting out a breath of relief. Dealing with Morgana was always difficult, but at least it was over for now. Stretching, he made his way back into his bathroom. He had to wash his face properly, and then get ready. An hour wasn't much time, after all.  



	4. The Court of Queen Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur, prince of the gay porn industry is forced to work with newbie Merlin on Director John Draco's new movie based on the Arthurian legends... with a twist. Arthur's not very happy about it, and neither is Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to my betas [](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/profile)[**krazykipper**](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/) and [](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/profile)[**green_postit**](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/). Also, I am aware Lancelot is a little OOC. Or rather, a _lot_ OOC. Artistic licence, I has it?

The days passed by in complete monotony. He was shooting two films at the same time, so he was glad that there wasn't too much by way of dialogue in porn. Any dialogue that there had to be, he could make up on the spot which, considering his state of mind, was both a good thing and a bad thing. A good thing because he was so used to things that it was as automatic as his actions, as automatic to him as the actual fucking (lube, condom, come shots) and bad because it gave him too much time to think. That wouldn't normally be a problem, except these days, his thought went more often than not to Merlin. It was really starting to piss him off. They were taking a break from filming and Arthur had gone outside for a fag break (and really, the childish part of him would always howl in silent laughter at the term) when his dark and silent brooding (because he wasn't sulking. Arthur Pendragon did _not_ sulk) was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing behind him, and someone coming up to stand next to him against the wall.

He heard a pack of cigarettes being slid out of tight denim, the click of a lighter, then the acrid scent of smoke that was not his hit his nose. He didn't have to turn his head to know who had joined him. Only one person dared to approach Arthur when it was obvious that he was in a mood, and that person was Lancelot. A sideways glance from the corner of his eyes confirmed that, and he couldn't even dredge up the energy for a scowl because even though he knew that the man had come out to check on him, he couldn't stay annoyed. How could he, when the man looked like _that_.

Lancelot was one of the finest examples of a man Arthur had ever seen, in the industry or otherwise. Olive skin over tight muscles, a head of glossy dark hair that couldn't decide between curls and waves and slumberous dark eyes made him one of the more popular actors in the porn industry. That, and the fact that he was bi, made him in constant demand both in gay and het porn. Lancelot's full, sensual mouth was drawn around the butt of his cigarette as he took a deep drag, and Arthur remembered what those lips looked like wrapped around his cock earlier. He decided he liked the image, it distracted him from thoughts of… _damn it_.

"What do you want?" he muttered, annoyed, momentary good mood completely ruined. Lancelot raised a dark eyebrow as a large dark hand went up to take the cigarette away from his mouth before he blew out a cloud of smoke. He turned slightly, legs crossed at the ankles as he surveyed Arthur without saying a word. Arthur stared back stubbornly, refusing to answer the silent question in those eyes and after a long moment, Lancelot sighed, turning back to flick his cigarette before he took another deep drag.

"Wondered what was eating at you, that's all." He didn't even look at Arthur, but Arthur was sure he'd seen his raised eyebrow because he answered mildly. "And not like that, either. Want to tell me what's up?"

"Nothing," Arthur said, defensively. "Why do you think something's wrong?"

Lancelot turned his head to shoot Arthur a Look, before taking another drag of his cigarette. Arthur crossed his arms, mindful of the still lit cigarette between his fingers. Lancelot's eyebrow went up, again. Arthur's expression mirrored his. Lancelot sighed.

"Look, I'm here to listen, yeah? Don't mean to get your back up. I was just worried about you. We're friends, aren't we?"

Friends, and more. He and Lancelot had had an… arrangement from when they first met. Lancelot was also one of the very few men that Arthur let top him, onscreen or off. There was just something about Lancelot, a gentleness and understanding, a sense of… _chivalry_ , he supposed. That thought made him start. He'd not even asked Lancelot, but now that the thought came to him, he couldn't shake it off.

"You going to be in Director Draco's new film?"

"The historical one? Yeah. You too?"

"Yeah," Arthur said on a sigh, glum. Lancelot's eyebrow inched up again, and his expression bordered on "what's up with you?" and "ahah! I think we've come to the problem". Arthur scowled, kicking at the dirty pavement with the tip of his expensive handmade Italian leather loafers. If he scuffed them, his father would skin him alive but he didn't care. Arthur felt a sudden jolt of resentment towards the man he hadn't spoken to in _weeks_ , but he quickly shook it off. Uther was his father; he just wanted what was best for him. Arthur knew that, understood it to some level. Didn't mean he liked all of the decisions that Uther made about his life, didn't mean he liked Uther's restrictiveness and strictness, either.

"So what's the problem, mate?"

"God, do I have to talk about it?" Arthur groaned, head falling back against the graffiti covered brick wall. His half smoked cigarette dropped to the ground and he noticed Lancelot helpfully crush it out with the heel of his well-worn trainers. Black Converse and shit, everything reminded him of Merlin, these days.

"Tell Lancelot all your problems. Is it a boy?" Lancelot said, tone filled with gentle teasing, close to his ear. Arthur shivered slightly and it had nothing to do with the slight nip in the air and everything to do with warm breath against his neck and ear. He turned his head just enough for Lancelot to see the face he pulled at the other man, and Lancelot laughed, moving back to lounge comfortably. "In all seriousness, is it?"

"I feel like a complete and utter _girl_ ," Arthur grumbled. Lancelot didn't say anything at all, just took a last drag of his own cigarette (smoked all the way to the filter, Arthur noticed, sullenly) before he stubbed it out on the wall and dropped the crushed butt to the floor. Lancelot was clearly waiting for him to talk, though, so he let out an explosive sigh. "You heard who we're working with? The newbie?"

"Merlin?" Lancelot said, and there was a sense of familiarity to his words that had Arthur stiffening in surprise and something else he didn't want to name at the intimate smile that came with the name. His fingers curled against his sleeve, and he hoped Lancelot couldn't see it. "Yeah, his debut was with me. Well, he was one of the more minor actors while I had a main part, but…" Lancelot shrugged slightly, the move strangely elegant. "He's quite delicious."

"Hmm."

"Don't you think so?" Lancelot asked, tone innocently curious. The smirk on his lips however, was anything but innocent and Arthur scowled. "All that pale skin, that lean body, those blue eyes. He's got quite a mouth on him, you know. It was his first film, but god, he sucked cock like a pro. I almost came just watching him. And then I actually did when he sucked me off." The quick grin on his face made Arthur grind his teeth. "Thankfully, I was supposed to. And I pulled out in time to give them the fucking come shots. Seriously, one day, I'd like to come and watch someone swallow. It's such a fucking pain to have to jerk myself off when I could have someone willing to finish the job for me."

"You've got enough of that off screen," Arthur replied dismissively, struggling to keep his tone neutral and to keep from decking the other man. From the way Lancelot's grin widened, Arthur didn't think he was wholly successful. Lancelot laced his fingers over his flat stomach, thin t-shirt bunching up just enough to show a hint of muscles and dark hair leading under his too tight jeans. He wasn't wearing a jacket, and his nipples were hard points under soft cotton. Unfortunately, not even that distracted Arthur.

"Gwen told me about your little trouble two weeks ago," Lancelot offered, conversationally and Arthur scowled again, darkly.

"Yeah, well, Gwen's got a big fucking mouth." Lancelot just shot him a look of mild reproach and Arthur muttered a reluctant apology. More than boredom or lack of time, what had ended his sexual relationship with Lancelot was his… thing with Gwen, whatever it was. Arthur had been sure that Gwen and Morgana were fucking, but Gwen and Lancelot made eyes at each other every time they met. And Lancelot was a good enough friend that Arthur knew that he kept in touch with Gwen, though Lancelot had never divulged whether they were dating or sleeping with each other. From what it looked like, it just seemed like Lancelot and Gwen had a strangely chaste romantic relationship that was rare in this day and age, especially considering Lancelot's occupation. Still, that was their problem, not his.

"Want to tell me what your problem with Merlin is?"

"Aside from the fact that he's an annoying idiot?" Arthur shot back and Lancelot just shot him that mild look again. Arthur glowered. He hated it when Lancelot used that look. "He just… I don't know. There's something about him that just _gets_ to me."

"Sounds like you've got a crush, mate."

"I am going to deck you," Arthur snarled quietly. "Shut the fuck up." Lancelot just laughed softly, shaking his head.

"You're such a child sometimes, Arthur."

"You sound like Morgana."

"Sometimes she's got a point," Lancelot said, with a grin. Then he sobered up, face turning serious. "Look, it's not a good idea to be pissed off and to piss off a co-star. Look how well that's done for you and Tristan. Just… talk to him. Work things out. I'm not saving your arse if anything like that happens again, and you know your father will have your balls if you make another scene like that."

"I know, _Jesus_." Arthur shoved his fingers through his hair and thanked whatever deity up there that he was supposed to look "dishevelled" and "fucked out". Otherwise, the makeup people would have his hide. After a quick, calming breath, he repeated it, softly. "I know. I just… fuck, I know. I look at him and I want to fuck him and then he opens his mouth and it's all I can do not to hit him. And I don't even know _why_. And besides, the second punch was him, not me. And I don't even know what the hell I did to deserve it." Lancelot sighed, one warm hand going to his shoulder, palm cupping the curve of it, hot even through his jacket. Then his arms went around Arthur's waist loosely, and he pressed a soft, friendly kiss to Arthur's lips.

"Just talk to him," Lancelot murmured against his mouth. "I've got his phone number, I can give it to you. You have to sort your shit out. Meet up somewhere, talk it out. And if you happen to come to blows, make sure that you don't hit anywhere someone might see and I'm talking about location as well as body parts."

"Not a good chance of that," Arthur snorted. "We work in porn. He's going to have to take his kit off at some point." Lancelot chuckled, and pressed another kiss to Arthur's lips.

"Then make sure you don't hit him. Tie him up if you have to." Arthur just groaned at that, eyes squeezing tightly shut as Lancelot's words filled his brains with images of Merlin, tied up and completely at his mercy. He let his head fall against Lancelot's shoulder, even as Lancelot laughed.

"You're a cruel, evil bastard."

"I live to serve, my lord," Lancelot smirked. Then he swatted at Arthur's butt, grinning as Arthur gasped, back arching slightly. His hand fell more firmly on Arthur's arse with a second smack, before cupping him over his slacks. "It might be interesting to find out what Merlin thinks about your spanking fetish."

"I," Arthur said, with as much dignity as he could muster, pressed as closely as he was to Lancelot so that the other man could probably feel him, already beginning to harden. "Do not have a spanking fetish." Lancelot's only answer to that was to deliver another blow against Arthur, making him bite back a moan. His hands cupped Lancelot's face and he pulled the slightly taller man to him for a kiss, tongue moving into his mouth for a deeper kiss than Lancelot's previous ones before he pulled back, nipping at Lancelot's lips. "Inside, before someone finds you fucking me right outside."

"I don't know," Lancelot mused, kneading at Arthur's arse, making him hiss out a curse. "The second option sounds far too tempting."

"Lancelot," Arthur said, warning clear in his tone. Then he grinned and said one word, succinctly. "Gwen."

"She knows I work with you." Arthur knew he'd won though, when Lancelot pulled back slightly, hands moving up to his waist. Arthur just raised an eyebrow at Lancelot's answer.

"Lance, if you fuck me now, it's going to have nothing to do with work and somehow I don't think she's going to be completely alright with you having sex with your ex." With a slight sigh, Lancelot pulled back, hands up.

"Fine, fine. We'll do this your way."

"You know, you giving me advice with Merlin is completely rich considering your situation with Gwen."

"I'm giving you professional advice. You're just nosy and trying to pry information about my love life. Unless," Lancelot grinned here. "You're planning to admit that you have a crush on Merlin?"

"Fuck. You."

Lancelot just threw back his head and laughed before draping an arm around Arthur's waist, steering him to the door to go back inside, just in time to hear the director frantically calling out their names. When he went home later that day, tired and sore, he heard his phone beep with a new message. It was from Lancelot, who'd just sent him a number and a direct "CALL HIM", all in caps. Arthur sighed and gave in. Who knew, maybe it might actually work. Maybe.  



	5. The Court of Queen Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur, prince of the gay porn industry is forced to work with newbie Merlin on Director John Draco's new movie based on the Arthurian legends... with a twist. Arthur's not very happy about it, and neither is Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my betas [](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/profile)[**krazykipper**](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/) and [](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/profile)[**green_postit**](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/). Thanks also to all the reviewers, especially those that have made the effort to comment on every chapter. You guys are seriously awesome. :D

He debated about calling Merlin for three days. He'd found himself saving Merlin's number instead of deleting it, although it had been a close thing. And even after he'd saved it, he'd still considered deleting it, but something always held him back from doing that. So on the third day, after a hard day's work, he finally decided to call. He'd gotten comfortable first, a shower, then a simple dinner of spaghetti and arabbiata sauce. Washed his dishes, watched a bit of TV. After eleven o'clock, though, it was obvious even to Arthur himself that he was stalling, and that was a blow to his pride. So, resolved, he took his mobile and resolutely called. It rang. And rang. And rang. And finally reached voicemail. Incensed, Arthur snapped his phone shut, glaring at it. The nerve of Merlin to ignore his call. Especially after he'd deigned to contact the other man, too. Arthur ignored the voice in his head that reminded him slyly that he'd hesitated to make the call in the first place. The voice sounded annoyingly like Morgana, so it was easy to bat it aside. He'd had a lot of practice doing that when they were growing up, after all. He immediately flipped his mobile open again, and pressed talk. The phone rang. Just as he was about to curse and end the call, he heard a mumbled response.

"Hello?" Merlin sounded drowsy, voice heavy with sleep and Arthur felt his stomach tighten. Then Merlin repeated it, sounding confused. "Hello? Who is this?" Arthur cleared his throat.

"Merlin? It's Arthur. Arthur Pendragon." Arthur didn't think he had to clarify who he was, but it was only polite, no matter of the fact that he was sure he was quite memorable. Well, Merlin certainly seemed to know who he was talking to because Arthur heard the rustle of sheets from the other line and fuck, that should _not_ be as hot as it was.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice was immediately wary, on the defensive. Not a good start. Arthur "What do you want? Wait, how did you get my number?" The wariness increased. "You're not stalking me, are you?"

"Oh for god's sake," Arthur snapped, sitting down hard on the edge of his bed. "Stop being so bloody ridiculous. Why would I want to _stalk_ you?"

"Then how'd you get my number?" Merlin demanded angrily. "Because I certainly didn't give it to you." Arthur sighed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation before he let himself fall back to lie on his bed.

"Okay, would you stop with the accusations for a second, shut up and listen to me? _Please_ ," he added, sure that Merlin was about to retort with some other caustic and ridiculously illogical remark. He heard the click of teeth and imagined that Merlin had snapped his mouth shut. Arthur was also quite sure that Merlin was trying to glare through the phone. "I got it from Lancelot – "

"Lancelot?" Merlin demanded, immediately. "You asked him for my number? Why on earth would you do that? How'd you know him anyway?"

"Merlin," Arthur said with exaggerated patience. " I thought I told you to shut up." He heard another click of teeth and felt the pressure of the glare through the phone again.

"Fine," Merlin said reluctantly, a touch resentful. "What do you want?"

"First of all, of course I know Lancelot you idiot. Have you forgotten who I am?" Arthur said, not able to resist, tone arrogant. But he quickly moved on before Merlin could interrupt and ruin his momentum. Or something. "Secondly, his little girlfriend told him about our little… problem at Director Draco's house and he gave me a little advice. He said that it's not good to be pissed off at, or to piss off a co-star before a movie. And unfortunately he's right. He also said that we should work things out before we have to film because it'll make things easier on everyone and he gave me your number and told me to call. Happy?" There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, and then Merlin responded, tone just a bit sullen and childish.

"I don't like you."

"Well the feeling's mutual, I assure you," Arthur snapped. "Hence why we need to work things out or we'll fuck up the movie. And trust me, Merlin, if we fuck it up, it's not just my head on the line, it's yours too. So it's mutually beneficial for us to get along, at least for the duration of the shoot."

"Oh for fuck's sake, it's not going to be that much of a problem," Merlin said in exasperation. "It's _porn_. We'll be done in less than a week. We can just pretend to be all over each other as is necessary then never see each other again."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. This was why he hated working with amateurs. They always assumed things were quick and easy. They had _no_ idea how much work some of these films could be. They never looked at the fine print. Well, Arthur was going to burst that little bubble and if he got a sense of perverse pleasure out of making Merlin miserable with the details? No one was going to know except for him.

"Did you even read the script that the director gave us?" he asked, condescendingly. Merlin's silence told him everything he needed to know and he sighed. "Do you have it near you?"

"Yeah."

"Well look it over and tell me how you think that it's going to be done in less than a week."

There was the sound of a drawer being pulled, then the rustle of paper. After a moment, Merlin swore, loudly and colourfully and Arthur smiled grimly. Merlin was beginning to see the problem.

"It's insanely thick! What is this?"

"The director wants to shoot a full length film," Arthur told him, simply. He lifted his head a little so that he could rest it on an arm. "With a lot of dialogue. True, it's unusual for our line of work, but it's been done before. Which means that the filming process is going to take as long as a regular movie, especially considering how much dialogue we have to through. There's going to be makeup, costumes, the works. We'll be lucky if we finish in a month."

"You've got to be joking."

"Look, I wish just as much as you do that I am, but sadly, it's all true. So we're all and truly fucked, and not in the pleasant way, either."

"Months," Merlin moaned as though in pain. "With _you_. Oh god."

"Thanks," Arthur snapped. "So you now understand our little dilemma. Are you more amenable to this getting along plan now, or do you need a bit more of a wake up call?"

"Months," Merlin repeated, and Arthur doubted he'd heard Arthur's words at all. "Fucking _months_."

"Yes, Merlin, months. Get over it. So I suggest we should meet up. Lancelot says somewhere relatively private, in case we start thinking it's easier to speak with our fists again."

"Oh, that's a _great_ way of convincing me to do this," Merlin said, sarcasm thick in his tone. "Let's do go somewhere private so you can _beat me up_."

"I said _if_. And we wouldn't have broken out into a brawl if you hadn't punched me. And I still want to know what the hell possessed you to do that, by the way."

"Fuck you," was Merlin's only reply to that, and Arthur couldn't stop the grin from curving his lips, relaxing now. This, he could do. Maybe it wasn't going to be too bad. He certainly hoped so.

"I think you're getting that backwards," Arthur drawled. "I'm the one doing the fucking in this little scenario." Arthur wondered if Merlin would splutter in indignation, but his reaction was more interesting than that. He heard a puff of soft, reluctant laughter from Merlin's side, as though he wasn't prepared for that at all, and it had escaped him unexpectedly.

"Right, of course, _sire_ ," Merlin said, a touch mockingly and Arthur's smile widened. "Fine, alright. I can get on board with this plan. So, um, when should we do this?"

"The fucking?" Arthur asked, lazily. "I think we might have to wait for shooting for that. Unless you're offering…"

"No!" Reluctant laughter again. "Meeting up. Coffee or something first, I think. I'm not… I don't know you; I won't feel comfortable going somewhere private if we're going to be… getting to know each other. And not in a naked sense."

"Our work really does screw up our priorities, doesn't it?" Arthur mused, and Merlin laughed again, a little bit more relaxed but no less genuine. "Fine, coffee. I'm shooting tomorrow but the day after? We'll meet outside the Covent Garden tube station."

"Day after tomorrow," Merlin agreed. "Anything else I should know about?"

"No, that should be it. If there is, I'll let you know when we meet up."

"Alright, I'll see you then." Merlin hesitated slightly, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet and maybe just a little bit more pleasant. "Good night, Arthur."

"Good night," Arthur returned, brows drawn together in a frown as he slid his phone shut. That was… alright. He'd made Merlin laugh. He liked Merlin's laugh, there was something just a little bit innocent and carefree to it, like a child's. And that hadn't except for the beginning. As he got ready for bed, he realised that that heavy knot in his stomach meant that he was greatly anticipating their coffee.

* * *

The day after tomorrow came both too quickly and not quickly enough. Arthur forced himself to pay complete attention during filming and even though he'd caught sight of Lancelot sending him blindingly suggestive and smug grins, Arthur had refrained from doing anything immature, like sticking out his tongue or showing him the finger. The urge, however, had been strong, but Arthur was mature enough to ignore such childish urges. He hadn't told Lancelot that he'd called Merlin, but he thought that his friend had probably already known. Merlin might've told him, though somehow that thought made him scowl rather than make him feel better.

It was a Thursday when they met, and the sun was pale, hardly casting enough heat but even so, sometimes to look good, one had to suffer. And suffer Arthur did because there was no way that his soft grey cashmere jumper was warm enough, even though he wore it over a pink shirt and had a brown cord jacket over that. Still, he looked fabulous, a fact driven home yet again as he caught both men and women eyeing him up even as he scanned the crowd through the protective cover of his aviators. He'd texted Merlin the day before, saying that they should meet at six so they could have a cup of coffee before making their way to dinner (if the coffee saw neither of them losing their tempers and hitting the other). It was six thirty and Merlin was late. Worse still, Arthur had been ten minutes early.

Arthur pulled back the triple layer of sleeves he wore to glimpse at the cool matte surface of his Tag Heur watch, and watch the minute hand creep to seven. Merlin was officially thirty-five minutes late and Arthur was just about to give him yet another call when he saw a scruffy dark head dart out from the crush of people coming out of the tube station, scanning the crowd madly. Arthur refused to acknowledge the jump in his stomach to be anything aside from annoyance, even as Merlin's face brightened when he caught sight of Arthur, before throwing him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry!" Merlin called out as he fought his way to Arthur's side who, miraculously enough, seemed to be left unbothered by the crowd. Arthur lifted up a hand to tip down his shades so that he could peer at Merlin from the top of it, one blond brow inching up even as Merlin continued his babbled apologies. "Fucking District line. Some kind of road works was going on, so I had to take a huge detour. I'm not too late, am I?"

"Thirty-five minutes," Arthur drawled, and watched with pleasure as Merlin's face fell. "I don't know about you, but that usually means late in my books, yes."

"I'm really sorry," Merlin said again, looking thoroughly abashed. "But look, I'll buy you a drink to make it up to you. Where do you want to go?"

Arthur took a moment to scan what Merlin was wearing. Ratty jeans, the same scuffed green converse from before, a striped monstrosity of a scarf in a loud orange and green, and a black coat that seemed to completely swallow him up. Arthur's eyebrow inched up further.

"Why don't you pick?" he offered, in what he thought was a kind tone. There was a flash of irritation in Merlin's eyes, though, that told him that perhaps his derision wasn't hidden carefully enough. But then Merlin just shrugged.

"There's a pub around here, I could get you a pint."

"Right," Arthur said, after a moment. "Okay. Lead the way."

They walked quickly through the bustle of London streets, darted around people and through an alley before Arthur saw the dirty sign of a pub that proclaimed that it was called 'Finnegan's', and Merlin quickly pushed in. Arthur's hands pushed into the pockets of his jacket, brushed against the pack of clove cigarettes Owain had given him after his trip to Bali and wished that the smoking ban was lifted, because he could really do with a cigarette when he saw the hunched old men and heard the mournful strains of "Danny Boy" from a beat up jukebox in a corner. Arthur relayed his order to Merlin and slipped into a seat as Merlin made his way to the bar to place their orders. Arthur made very sure not to touch the scarred wooden surface of the table, after discovering that it was sticky from spilled drinks.

Arthur felt completely out of his depth. He'd started the day thinking he had the upper hand on Merlin. He knew more about the business, more about the requirements of the movie than Merlin did. He'd been the one to set the day and time for their meeting, was supposed to have chosen the place to somewhere he was comfortable in, maybe somewhere Merlin would be just a little out of place, uncomfortable in. He was supposed to have been the one in control. But while he still knew more about their situation, had made the time and place, he was now in a pub where Merlin knew, Merlin was more comfortable in, closer to Leicester Square than Covent Garden and from the easy way Merlin chatted with the barmaid, a pub that Merlin went to with some regularity.

When Merlin came back with their drinks, Arthur had worked himself into quite a mood, turning insecurity to temper. Merlin placed the frothing pint glass of dark beer in front of his own chair, liquid spilling over the sides to drip to the table before he placed a cold bottle of Corona in front of Arthur, lime wedged into the top. Arthur snatched the bottle with a scowl, watched Merlin's friendly grin dim and become more forced as he inched his way carefully into his seat, unbuttoning his coat to reveal a threadbare brown woollen jumper that still looked about ten times warmer than Arthur's own designer cashmere. Another strike against Merlin, especially when Arthur already felt the cold prickling his skin as the door opened as a laughing group of boys went in, some wearing LSE hoodies.

"Look," Merlin said, after taking a big gulp of his beer that left the froth staining his upper lips. "I'm sorry about being late, alright? You know how the tubes get, and I live in zone two. It's a bit of a trek to get here."

"You seem familiar enough with the area," Arthur pointed out, pushing his wedge of lime into the bottle, watching the golden liquid fizzle. He couldn't quite keep his eyes off of Merlin's mouth, however, especially since the froth brought his eyes to it quite firmly. Merlin's brows drew together in a frown.

"Well, I do have friends who live nearby, so I've gone with them. It's not like I deliberately – what are you doing?" Merlin's voice was filled with confusion and wariness even as he moved back, but Arthur clamped a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from moving back, his other hand moving towards Merlin's face as his thumb wiped away the froth.

"You've just got a bit of… well, this," Arthur said, showing his thumb to Merlin, before popping it into his mouth. Merlin's eyes got comically huge at the action, and Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You…" Merlin sputtered, face going completely red. "Don't do that here! It's a family pub, for god's sake, that's indecent – "

"I just cleaned you up."

"You didn't have to lick it off your thumb!"

"Actually, I sucked it off," Arthur corrected, watching in complete amusement as Merlin coloured even more, covering his face with his hands. "Oh, stop being such a prude. It's not like I licked you."

"Oh god," Merlin whimpered. "Just shut up, please. I know you're a porn star, but again, _pub_."

"You're one too, you realise." He was thoroughly enjoying himself now, as he sat back in his chair and watched Merlin lower his hands to shoot him a puzzled look. "You know, a porn star. We _are_ going to be acting together."

"Will you keep your voice _down_ , Jesus," Merlin hissed. His ears had gone red too, Arthur noted in amazement. It really was very obvious, seeing how pale Merlin's skin was. He wondered how far that flush went, before he forced the thought away. "This is only my second movie."

"Well, you're making it your occupation, yeah? That makes you a porn star."

"Oh fuck," Merlin moaned, dropping his head down to the table. That really was disgusting, considering how sticky the table was. "Oh god, shut up, shut up, shut up."

"Well, considering we're supposed to be talking about work, I can't really do that."

"Correction, we're supposed to be trying to get along. Can't we just, I don't know, talk about the weather or something? Anything that doesn't involve the words 'porn' and 'star' to be mentioned?" Merlin shot him a beseeching look and Arthur just smirked, bringing his bottle to his mouth to take a long gulp. When he was done, he licked his lips, then around the rim of the bottle. Merlin's eyes followed the movement with a whimper that Arthur was sure he wasn't even aware he was making, and suddenly he was back on comfortable ground. "You're doing that deliberately, aren't you?"

"What?" Arthur asked innocently, running his finger over the sweating surface of the neck of his Corona. Merlin's eyes went wide again before he gestured to Arthur's hand.

" _That_. It's positively indecent."

"Oh trust me," Arthur laughed. "I can be even more indecent, if you want." Merlin's eyes blurred a little at that, his face a little more dazed as he let Arthur's words sink in. Arthur leaned back slightly, kept his face perfectly bland as he ran the tip of his shoe along Merlin's calf. Merlin jumped almost a foot high, letting out a high, squeaky noise that could only be best described as "eep".

"I don't want," Merlin said, quickly. "Really. So please, weather? It's cold today, isn't it? I think it's going to rain."

"Merlin," Arthur said, slowly. "This is England. Of course it's going to bloody rain. This is why I find talking about the weather pointless."

"Fine, let's talk about your family."

"My mother's dead," Arthur said, bluntly. "And I'm not talking to my father right now."

"Oh god." Now Merlin just looked completely distraught, and Arthur had to smile. "I'm so sorry. I'm a complete idiot. I open my mouth and find my foot firmly lodged there. We can talk about something else?"

"That would be nice," Arthur agreed, solemnly, but his mouth was twitching in amusement. It took Merlin several tries, during which he proceeded to lodge his foot very firmly in his mouth indeed, before they talked about the neutral subject of football. Well, relatively neutral. They supported opposing teams, but at least that managed to get them a healthy debate that met with Merlin's approval (namely, one that didn't involve the words 'porn star') and soon football became music and music became friends and friends became hobbies and their table had three empty bottles and four empty pint glasses and Arthur was into his fourth bottle and Merlin into his fifth pint and they had a bowl of chips in front of them.

They didn't talk about the movie, and the closest they got to talking about work was to mock Director Draco and agree that the man was insane. They polished off the chips and another bowl and managed to finish off a grand total of seven pints and six bottles before they stumbled out of the pub, half drunk near closing. There had been flirting. Arthur couldn't quite help himself, especially when Merlin blushed so easily and after Merlin had had a few pints in him, he'd even reciprocated. Adding to that the fact that they even got along marginally well… well. Arthur took them to a bar after that, and they did shots of tequila, laughing all the while and getting progressively drunker by the shot. Merlin also proceeded to order them every filthy sounding cocktail and shot that the bartender knew; so when they finally piled into a taxi at three in the morning; both of them were completely off their arses drunk.

Arthur couldn't quite remember what happened during their drinking session and even after, but he could swear he remembered alcohol laced kisses and a tongue that tasted of beer and tequila and a number of other liquors that made his head spin as much or even more than the aforementioned kisses did. But when he woke up the next day in his bed, sheets rumpled and duvet kicked off, shivering from the cold, head throbbing with a hangover… he expected that. He could even understand the fact that he was naked, and not alone in his bed. The first usually had something to do with the other, after all. No, all of those were things he very much expected after a night of heavy drinking. What he _didn't_ expect, however, was the identity of the person that shared his bed. Looking at the unconscious and similarly naked body next to his on his bed through heavy, sleep encrusted eyes; Arthur could only say one thing.

"Fuck."  



	6. The Court of Queen Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur, prince of the gay porn industry is forced to work with newbie Merlin on Director John Draco's new movie based on the Arthurian legends... with a twist. Arthur's not very happy about it, and neither is Merlin. -CRACK-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my betas [](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/profile)[**krazykipper**](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/) and [](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/profile)[**green_postit**](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/). And again, thanks to all of you reviewers, you guys make writing this so much fun. ♥

  
His head hurt. _Everything_ hurt. His brain felt like it was being squeezed through the thin funnel of a plastic straw while it echoed the throbbing beat of his heart. Expand, contract, expand, contract and it took everything he had not to just turn to his side and hurl over the side of the bed he felt that he was lying on. He heard a pathetic sound like a man's last, dying whimper and should have been appalled when he realised that the sound came from him, but really, vomit. He really needed to vomit.

The problem, really, was the fact that he _knew_ that if he even attempted to sit up, he'd throw up. But he couldn't keep on lying down, either because the minute the rest of his body realised that his brain had woken up, it had gone 'a ha, we can finally get some attention now' and then _bam_ , he felt like he was going to die. And he probably would because he was going to throw up in his mouth and he was lying flat on his back which meant that he would just choke on his own vomit and _ohmygod_ -

Merlin pitched himself off of the bed, running for the first door he saw and would've thanked his lucky stars that he'd got it right when he careened into the ensuite bathroom if he hadn't made a beeline for the toilet bowl and thrown up… everything. He was pretty sure that if he squinted through his sleep encrusted and blood shot eyes, that he'd see his spleen lying in the pool of vomit, somewhere. Right next to his liver. He let out a weak moan, resting his head against cold porcelain and tried very hard not to think about what could be on said cold porcelain even as his hand flapped uselessly around to flush the toilet. His hand was batted aside, however, and then the toilet was flushing after his head had been readjusted so that he didn't get accidentally splashed by the contents of the toilet bowl.

"Thanks," he croaked. Then he stiffened. Not his flat, not his bathroom. What the fuck had happened last night? Dreading the possible answer, even as he fought another burbling wave of vomit – rather impressive, really, considering he'd been heaving his guts out for the past half hour – and looked up to see a very wet, very naked and - he couldn't believe how unfair it all was – apparently very sober Arthur Pendragon, who was sort of looking at him in bemusement.

"At least you didn't puke on my carpet."

Well, Merlin didn't. He just puked on Arthur's furry bathmat thing.

  


* * *

"You know, most people don't throw up when they see me naked," Arthur said, conversationally and Merlin thought he was going to _die_ in embarrassment because Arthur was cleaning up his puke and wasn't even saying anything (much) about it as Merlin sat on the cold tiled floor of Arthur's bathroom, leaning against the wall and being generally very pathetic and useless. Of course, Arthur was wearing about three layers of surgical latex gloves, though where or why Arthur got surgical gloves from, Merlin didn't want to know. Still, no one besides his mother had ever cleaned up after his vomit before, and Merlin found it rather endearing. Of course, it might be his befuddled, hungover mind speaking but even Merlin's cold, cynical heart sort of farted warmth and other such mushy bollocks at the sight.

"Sorry," Merlin said, still croaking because his throat felt _raw_ after round three. Of hurling, unfortunately, not sex. "I'll help – "

"Sit," Arthur said so firmly and commandingly that Merlin, well, sat. Stayed sitting. Whatever. "If you move, you'll throw up again and you're too far away from the toilet bowl."

"Sorry," Merlin repeated rather pathetically. He wet his lips but winced because his mouth still tasted like the inside of a garbage can. "I honestly feel so shite about all of this. What, um… what happened?"

Arthur sat back on his heels, resting his forearms on his nicely toned thighs – dammit, Merlin, stop staring at the man's thighs, or his hands, or his stomach, or his… oh, bugger it – and Arthur looked at Merlin like he thought Merlin was a complete idiot, which was fine since Merlin sort of felt like one right now. Evidently, though, Arthur seemed to want to humour Merlin and answer his idiotic questions about what happened despite the evidence that made everything quite blatantly obvious.

"It was the mojitos," Arthur said, finally, tone sombre. Merlin blinked, not quite sure he heard him right.

"The… mojitos?"

"The mojitos," Arthur confirmed with a nod. Then paused, cocking his head in thought. "Well, that and the beer and the tequila and the cock sucking cowboys – "

"Wait, what?" Merlin interrupted, alarmed. Arthur's brows furrowed.

"Or is that cock licking cowboys? I always get that wrong. Anyway, those things added with a number of other cocktails, I believe, were the ingredients to our…. rigorous night time activities."

"How?" Merlin asked, stupidly. "I had to have been completely incapacitated. I'm sure I don't remember even half of what we ended up drinking, it's physically impossible – "

"Apparently not," Arthur broke in, managing to sound patient, gentle, sympathetic and condescending all at once. If the tone didn't piss him off so much, if he wasn't so confused, he'd be impressed. Oh, buggeration, he still was. A little bit. Impressed, that is. Arthur nodded his head to the bin near the bed which was visible as the bathroom door was wide open. "I found condoms."

"They could be old – "

"Merlin," Arthur said, his tone still patient, gentle and condescending. "It was from last night."

"So we… you and I…."

"Apparently so."

Merlin couldn't quite wrap his head around it. Sure, he was a porn star now and so was Arthur – one of the biggest ones, in fact – but he didn't go around randomly sleeping with people when it had nothing to do with his job! Up until last night, he'd hated Arthur's guts. Well, close to it, anyway. But apparently all he'd needed was about his bodyweight in alcohol and he'd spread his legs eagerly enough. Oh god. Merlin groaned, head thumping against the wall feebly. He was easy. He was a cheap, easy date. There would be no cow buying since apparently he was just giving the milk away for free. And put out ads for it, apparently. Not that he wanted any cow buying with Arthur, far from it in fact. He was just… oh god; he wasn't even making any sense in his own head. The feel of slightly cool, callused fingertips against his face made him blink open his eyes in surprise to see Arthur peering down at him in concern.

"Are you all right?" Arthur asked. "Do you feel like throwing up again? Do you want to go by the toilet bowl or should I just get a bucket?"

"I'm fine." At Arthur's sceptical look, he had to smile. "No, honestly. Well, not _fine_ fine. I still feel like Christmas elves are doing a jig in my head while they're singing "Jingle Bells" really loudly, but aside from that, I'm doing all right."

"Christmas elves."

"Lots of them," Merlin confirmed. Arthur's lips quirked in a smile as he shook his head, and then suddenly he was stroking Merlin's hair and really, people just didn't do that often enough because it felt nice and he was just sort of turning his face up expectantly and he swore Arthur was coming closer… then Arthur stopped and wrinkled his nose.

"I'm not going to kiss you."

"Oh," Merlin said, disappointed. Then – "Why not?"

"Because," Arthur said with a long suffering sigh even though his lips were still doing that quirking smile thing. "You've got a bit of dried vomit on the side of your mouth and I'm not going to touch you until you've brushed your teeth and taken a shower. You smell like a brewery."

* * *

Despite Arthur's assurances that he would definitely kiss-and-or-sleep-with Merlin if he was clean and fresh and thus not smelling either of stale alcohol or vomit, none of the above happened. After Merlin finished his shower, he borrowed Arthur's spare toothbrush along with his clothes – because seriously, there was no way he was going to wear what he did last night. He suspected that he would have to burn said offending articles of clothing.

Anyway, they did not either kiss or have sex because when Merlin finished dressing, he could smell the scent of food. Freshly cooked food, in fact. It took Merlin twenty minutes to decide that he was curious enough to walk to the kitchen, despite the fact that his stomach protested loudly at this. He almost regretted it when he saw the big fry up breakfast that Arthur had provided, even while his heart did that weird little gurgling warmth fart thing. His stomach wanted to do a little cartwheel, but Merlin firmly told it to stop because he was sure that the results would not be pretty.

Arthur, Merlin was fast discovering, could probably look good in anything. Even in an apron. Maybe especially in an apron. At first, all the bare, tanned skin under the apron strings distracted Merlin and he thought that Arthur was naked but when he moved, Merlin finally noticed that, alas, he was wearing jeans. Though why he was cooking in jeans and an apron but otherwise completely topless, Merlin did not know. He was also not going to complain because his tired nose finally sniffed hot coffee and his eyes spied paracetemol. Oh, bless him. Merlin murmured a reverent prayer as he took two and swallowed them down dry, before taking steady sips of the glass of orange juice next to them.

"Bacon and eggs?"

"Coffee," Merlin corrected, eyes gleaming. "And I shall be your willing and eternal sex slave."

Arthur snorted as he looked over his shoulder at Merlin so that Merlin could see him rolling his eyes, even as he answered airily:

"I don't need a sex slave. I've already got more than I know what to do with."

"Pshaw, no one can have too many sex slaves. But go on then, I'll be your pleasure slave. No? Harem boy? I'll let you know, I give great massages."

"Well, you sold me," Arthur said, completely deadpan. "You won me at massages. When can you start?"

"I always did know I was irresistible," Merlin said, smugly. He stretched out a hand, greedily. "Gimme." Arthur laughed, but nonetheless complied, pouring him a mug full of steaming hot coffee. And it was the fancy kind, too, not the instant kind. Merlin wrapped his fingers around the mug, blowing carefully before taking a tentative sip. Heaven in a coffee cup. Well, a mug. Merlin actually moaned a little before he took greedier gulps, not caring if he'd burn his mouth, anymore. He didn't even notice Arthur watching him with a strange, almost indulgent smile on his face at first, but when he did, he brought the mug away from his mouth self-consciously. "What?"

"Nothing," Arthur said, shaking his head before turning to pile some bacon and eggs into a plate, before adding a smaller amount on another, placing that one in front of Merlin and sliding into the empty seat next to him. He started eating, even as Merlin stared in revulsion at his own plate. Arthur paused, a fork halfway to his mouth, and raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong with my cooking?"

"I'm sure there isn't," Merlin said, uneasily. "It's just… it's greasy. And I think I might throw up a little if I eat that."

"It's good for you," Arthur said, firmly. At Merlin's sceptical look, he rolled his eyes. "Okay, not good for you, but it's good for hangovers. That, or McDonald's, but if you want some McDonald's, you're going to have to go out and buy some yourself."

"That's… disgusting." Arthur didn't even dignify that with an answer, just continued eating, thoroughly at ease with ignoring Merlin. Merlin was a little put out at that, and sort of pushed the food around in his plate uneasily. After watching Arthur suffer no ill effects from the food, he tried it out a little, bracing himself for a wave of nausea. When it proved to not be too bad, he took another bite, then another, amazed when he did, in fact, feel better. "This is amazing," Merlin said, dazed. "I'm not throwing up."

"What have you been doing to get over hangovers, then?"

"Generally? Leave it well alone." Arthur just snorted.

"McDonald's, or a fry up. Works like a charm every time. Then take some paracetemol for any headaches you might have, drink lots of water, take a nap and you'll be back to normal. With our work, you can't afford to be sick."

They ate in somewhat companionable silence, and then Merlin collected the plates and did the dishes (well, Arthur _had_ cooked, after all. No one could accuse Merlin of having no manners) and after that, Arthur handed him some water. Arthur still looked tired, and seemed to have every intention of going back to bed and Merlin felt a moment of awkward indecision. Did he leave? Or stay? Did Arthur even _want_ him to stay? He hesitated for a while, but then the answer was made for him when Arthur, on his way back to his bedroom, glanced at him over his shoulder with a half smile.

"Come on, then. I believe you offered me a massage if I gave you coffee."

With a shy grin, Merlin followed him back. If these were massages that were given in the bedroom… well, it maybe it wasn't _quite_ the kind of massage Merlin had been offering. Then again, maybe it had been exactly that.  



	7. The Court of Queen Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur, prince of the gay porn industry is forced to work with newbie Merlin on Director John Draco's new movie based on the Arthurian legends... with a twist. Arthur's not very happy about it, and neither is Merlin. -CRACK-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my betas [](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/profile)[**krazykipper**](http://krazykipper.livejournal.com/) and [](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/profile)[**green_postit**](http://green-postit.livejournal.com/).

"You're getting on well," Lancelot mused. Arthur slanted him an amused look as he looked up from his phone. Lancelot sauntered over to him, leaning against the wall next to him before taking out a cigarette and lit up. Without a word, he pressed it to Arthur's lips before he moved on to light up another one for himself.  

"We're all right," Arthur said; voice carefully casual as he took a drag. Lancelot just shot him a look, before snorting. Arthur bumped his shoulder against Lancelot's at that, before it turned into a mini-bumping match. After a while, Lancelot slipped an arm around Arthur's waist, fingers automatically slipping under his untucked shirt to brush against warm, bare skin.  

"But seriously," he said after a moment, tracing idle patterns on Arthur's hip. "You're always texting him, and recently you haven't even gone out for a drink with me. I'm hurt. I do believe I'm being replaced." 

"Lance, you're far to busy with Gwen to do anything with me," Arthur pointed out with a smirk, and Lancelot sighed dramatically, leaning his head back against cold brick.  

"Unfortunately not, my friend. The evil Morgana has my sweet Gwen working hard recently. I hardly ever get to see her." 

"Whinge, whinge, whinge," Arthur teased, and got a pinch in retaliation. He just laughed at that, digging his nails into Lancelot's forearm in retribution. When his phone beeped discreetly, though, he immediately opened it, grinning as he read the message. Lancelot didn't even bother for subtlety as he read over Arthur's shoulder, eyebrow shooting up. 

"I said sort out your problems, not sleep with him. Unless you're practising your lines via text." 

"Shut up," Arthur said, amicably as he quickly thumbed out a text.  

"You could always ask a friend to join in, you know." 

"You touch him outside of work, and I'll hurt you." Arthur smiled, friendly. "I'm just saying." 

"You're a greedy bastard," Lancelot sighed, sadly. "You don't even feel sorry for a poor, deprived man." 

"Poor and deprived, my arse," Arthur snorted. "You're talking to someone who knows about your little collection of fanboys and fangirls who're more than willing to tide you over. And I know for a fact that occasionally, you take them up on the many, many offers they make you." 

"Not all of us have boyfriends eager to give us sex whenever we want to." 

"He's not my boyfriend." 

"Right," Lancelot didn't even bother to hide his scepticism. "Of course not." 

"He's not," Arthur insisted, frowning slightly as he took another drag, and then flicked his cigarette to the ground. "We're just… occasional fuck buddies." 

"That would be far more convincing if some of your actual occasional fuck buddies haven't come to me and asked if we've gotten back together, because you're certainly not getting sex from them. Not outside from work, at least." 

"They have big mouths," Arthur scowled. Then he shook his head, waving his hand in an almost regal gesture that had Lancelot's mouth twitching in amusement. "Anyway, it doesn't matter who I've been sleeping with." 

"Mmhmm," Lancelot said, in a way that told Arthur how he didn't believe a word he said. Arthur had to scowl at that. It was nobody's business if he was sleeping with Merlin, let alone Lancelot's. Sure, they were friends. Good ones, even, but that didn't give Lancelot leave to pry into his life. It wasn't like he pried into Lancelot's. Well, not much in any case. The brush of callused fingertips along his brows took him from his thoughts, and he found Lancelot smiling at him indulgently. "Stop scowling. Your face is going to get stuck like that, and then you'll never get to act again. And I'd be forced to work with Tristan more often." He gave a theatrical shudder at that, and immediately had Arthur smiling again. 

"You're a pushy, nosy bastard." 

"I try my best. Look," Lancelot said; his tone serious now. "I know what it must look like to you, from your side. But I am worried, yeah? Despite everything, or maybe because of it, I do care for you. You're a good friend and I don't want to see you… well." He gestured uselessly. Arthur looked at him in amusement. 

"If you say that you don't want to see me hurt, I might just cry a little. Really, there would be tears. I might even write a poem about it." 

"Oh shut up, you fairy," Lancelot laughed, shoving at him. Grinning, he cupped Lancelot's face and pulled the other man into a light, friendly kiss. When he pulled back, he saw Lancelot smiling at him, true affection in his eyes. 

"You're a good friend, Lance. But seriously, butt out. I'll kick your arse if you don't." 

"Promises, promises," Lancelot grumbled good naturedly, then laughed again as Arthur punched him in the shoulder. "Ouch, you bruise me and you get to explain it to the director." With a laugh, Arthur hit him again before heading back inside. 

* * *

Arthur liked Merlin. It was strange to admit it, especially after they were lying in his bed, sweat cooling on their skin, bodies tangled up in each other's, but it was true. He actually, honest to god, liked Merlin. As a person, even, not just liked having sex with him. True, Merlin still annoyed him and they argued almost constantly but the sex after those arguments was absolutely fantastic. He liked the complex puzzle that was Merlin, his innate awkward shyness, and his bursts of passion and fire. Liked his often dry humour and his sarcasm, liked his irreverence. He even liked how Merlin could be such an idiot sometimes. Merlin worked hard, when he had a purpose. He believed, strangely enough, in doing the right thing. He was an innately good person and it had been so long since Arthur had met someone like that.  

For example, if they were out and happened to see someone homeless and begging for money, or even busking at street corners, Merlin would give them money he couldn't really afford to part with. He was such a soft touch, even when Arthur noted cynically that they were probably just lying to get more money, or insisted that if they were fit to work, then they should be. Merlin also had little to no interest in politics, in current events aside from those that directly or closely affected him. He'd coo and hum and make sympathetic noises if he caught sight of headlines or the news, but he rarely lingered over the complex politics of countries. He was more interested in… well. Other things, really.  

Often, they would curl up on the couch in front of Arthur's TV, or Merlin's, and watch whatever was on that caught Merlin's interest. He liked sci-fi, best of all. And American Idol ("the auditions only though," Merlin admitted with a shy grin that was tinged with humour and a bit of guilt. "It's just… it's really funny, sometimes. I know it's horrible, but some of them can't honestly think that they're actually good, can they? It should be blatantly obvious that they're not. But anyway, it's great entertainment."), various cooking shows ("I can't cook to save my life, but watching those shows makes me think that I could, if I tried. Anyway, the food always looks so amazing."), comedies.  

Arthur liked looking at Merlin when he laughed. His eyes would crinkle and half-shut, hiding those blue, blue eyes of his. His mouth was always a little open, but the joy of it, _his_ joy of it, would fill his face. It made Arthur want to laugh with him. And he knew it was such a cliché, but he liked it when Merlin was angry, too. His eyes spat fire and whatever shyness and awkwardness in him disappeared in those moments. It took Arthur's breath away, at times, and he'd have the irresistible urge to pounce. And often, he didn't check those urges and did just that, which lead to a much more satisfying conclusion of their arguments.  

What he loved, though, was how Merlin looked when they were having sex. He couldn't call it fucking, nor could he stomach the words "making love", but he loved it nonetheless. Merlin had that gorgeous black Irish colouring that Arthur couldn't resist, and his pale skin would flush the most gorgeous colour, and his eyes would go dark and dazed and just a little drugged. And he was loud. If Arthur did something that Merlin approved of, he would let him know in gasps and moans and cries. And Merlin wasn't passive, not at all. After each time they slept together, Arthur would wear Merlin's marks on his skin, and he wore them gleefully, badges of honour that he treasured even as he got yelled at, time and time again. And Merlin bore his marks, hickeys that darkened his throat, his chest, whatever part of him Arthur felt like claiming.

He ignored the looks Lancelot shot him, the barbed comments laced with an undertone of concern from Morgana. The thoughtful looks from Gwen. He was, Arthur realized with a jolt, just a bit infatuated. And that made him nervous. Arthur didn't get infatuated, he had people get infatuated with _him_. It was just annoying, and he certainly wasn't going to play their role in this relationship. God, relationship. Whatever the fuck it was, anyway. He and Merlin had always danced around the subject, not giving it voice and never questioning but the longer it went on, the more Arthur found himself wondering what exactly they were. Fuck buddies, he'd said to Lancelot, and sure they had sex a lot, practically all the time, but it wasn't just that. Merlin stayed over at his flat a lot, he cooked for Merlin, they both grumbled through chores. They stayed at home and watched the telly and they necked like horny teenagers on his couch.  

Somewhere, along the line, Merlin had actually turned into his boyfriend. Somehow. Maybe. He was uncomfortable with the thought, but shrugged it off impatiently. It didn't matter what they were. They were enjoying themselves, they were having fun, and Arthur had never liked labels, in any case. So he let it be. And they continued in their strange, undefined relationship until suddenly, the date for the filming drew ever closer. 

"So," Arthur said one day while they were watching _MasterChef_. "Filming's going to start, soon." Merlin shot him a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow at the even, almost bland tone Arthur used. His lips quirked a little, and Arthur felt, uncomfortably, that Merlin could probably pick out the nuances of his tone by now. 

"Yes," Merlin said, nodding thoughtfully as he let his head drop back to Arthur's shoulder. "I suppose it does." A moment of silence went on, and while Merlin looked unconcerned, Arthur fidgeted a little. 

"I watched your film," Arthur blurted out and Merlin lifted his head up a bit to shoot him an amused smile. His hand, previously lightly stroking Arthur's cashmere covered chest dropped a little, fingering the buckle of his Italian leather belt. 

"Did you now?" Merlin said, still sounding unconcerned even as a finger idly dipped under the waistband of Arthur's jeans and boxer briefs to drag his nail over Arthur's skin. "What did you think of it?" 

Arthur shifted slightly, feeling himself react to the touch, to the memory of Merlin in the movie, so wanton and desperate and so fucking _easy_. He had to take a deep breath before he could go on, voice carefully casual.  

"It wasn't too bad. It was a good movie to make your debut in." 

"Mm, I had help, I suppose," Merlin admitted, with a slight shrug. Now he had three fingers down Arthur's pants, alternately patting the line of hair there and scratching him lightly. "Lancelot was very… helpful. And enthusiastic." 

"Oh?" Arthur said, and that one word held a hard edge. "Was he?" 

"Very," Merlin said, carelessly. But he broke out in a grin immediately after, turning to straddle Arthur, cupping his face to give him a slow, teasing kiss before pulling back just enough so that he could meet Arthur's eyes, blue on blue, their breaths mingling. "I'm looking forward to working with him again." 

"Are you?" Arthur's eyes narrowed, and he gripped Merlin's hip. In a smooth move that made Merlin catch his breath, he flipped them over so that Merlin was lying flat on his back and Arthur was over him, braced on one arm. "He did mention he was somewhat taken with certain… _attributes_ of yours." Arthur's gaze was locked on Merlin's lips, left little to imagination what he meant. Merlin let his lips curve in a reckless, pleased smirk that had Arthur glaring at him.  

"Well, Lancelot was always good with… cues. And he's certainly _impressive_. If you know what I mean." 

Arthur's eyes had narrowed to slits and it was very much obvious that Merlin was enjoying every second. Then Arthur abruptly changed, frown turning into an easy, confident, arrogant smirk the likes of which Merlin had first found annoying and was quickly becoming fond of. He caught Merlin's wrists in a hand, the other boldly stroking from neck to waist, had Merlin shuddering and arching into the touch as he slipped under Merlin's t-shirt to drag his nails down Merlin's side, then up again. He leaned in close, mouth brushing against Merlin's in a light, teasing kiss that had Merlin cursing, neck straining as he tried to get closer.  

"Evidently," Arthur said, tone conversational. "You've become too used to sleeping with me. I suppose," and here he sighed with slight annoyance. "I have to show you just what it's like to have sex with the Prince. Again." 

Merlin's eyes glittered with humour and arousal as he arched into Arthur's body. "Your Highness," he said, breathily. "I'm your ever humble servant." 

"Good man," Arthur growled, and proceeded to make good on his promises.


End file.
